Harry and Draco's Hogwarts Reunion
by DarkPhoenixAscending
Summary: Harry/Draco slash. Ignores epilogue. Ten years have passed since their Hogwarts days, and the invitations to their class reunion come as a surprise to both Harry and Draco, who have moved on and made new lives for themselves. And even more surprises are in store for them when they finally meet again. One thing is certain — it'll be a night to remember. Complete.
1. The Invitation

**Title:** Harry and Draco's Hogwarts Reunion

**Author: **Dark Phoenix

**Summary:** Ten years have passed since their Hogwarts days, and the invitations to their class reunion come as a surprise to both Harry and Draco, who have moved on and made new lives for themselves. And even more surprises are in store for them when they finally meet again. One thing is certain — it'll be a night to remember.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, various others

**Warning:** Smut (eventually)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

**Notes:** Well, I almost managed to finish this in time for Draco's birthday. But it's still the longest thing I've written here so far, so that's good enough for me. Also, when I wrote this, I forgot that Lavender Brown had died in the last book. So I'm just going to pretend that didn't happen.

* * *

**~ Chapter One: The Invitation ~**

"Merlin's beard, has it been ten years already?"

Draco stared down at the parchment in front of him in bemusement. It was early morning, and he'd only just arrived at his office and settled himself at his desk to eat breakfast and read the morning's post. Most days, it was fairly predictable: the _Daily Prophet,_ work-related messages from his colleagues, an occasional letter from his mother or one of his old school friends. He'd been more than a little surprised when an owl had delivered an envelope bearing the Hogwarts seal.

He shook his head slightly and read the letter again.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_Congratulations! This year marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating class. And although your class was deprived of the opportunity to complete their education, we will still celebrate this milestone with the customary Hogwarts ten-year class reunion. The festivities will take place on 5 July 2008 at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Please let us know whether or not you will be attending by the end of June. We hope to see as many of you there as possible!_

_Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts_

Draco laid a hand over the parchment, forcing himself to stop staring at it. _I can't be that old already, can I? It doesn't feel like it's been that long._ But no, it was no mistake. He'd just turned twenty-eight earlier that month. It really had been ten whole years since Hogwarts. Ten years since the Dark Lord had been destroyed. He looked back down at the parchment in wonder.

"Mr. Malfoy? Is everything all right?"

Draco looked up to see Stacie, his assistant, standing in the doorway of his office. He forced a smile onto his face, though it felt a bit strained.

"Of course, Miss Winters," he said. "I've just been rudely reminded of how old I'm getting, is all."

"Twenty-eight is hardly old, Mr. Malfoy," she answered playfully.

Draco snorted. "What do you know, you're barely over twenty yourself."

"I'm twenty-three," she corrected him. "In fact, you were still at Hogwarts the first year or two I was there. Though you were a big, self-important upperclassman at the time."

"Yes, well, about that," he said, taking the parchment and waving it in her direction. "I hope you feel the same way when _your_ ten-year reunion comes around."

Stacie's face lit up. "It's your ten-year reunion? How fun! You'll get to meet all your old friends again . . . " She trailed off at the look on Draco's face. "I'm sorry. But it's been ten years. How bad can it be? Lots of people have gotten over the whole Death Eater business, haven't they?"

Draco sighed. He couldn't tell if she was being naive or just overly optimistic. Classic Hufflepuff. Sometimes it was hard to believe he got along so well with a girl he knew to be Muggleborn and a former Hufflepuff. But, he reminded himself, she was also brilliant at Potions and knew how to handle him. And she was one of the few people who didn't still hold a grudge against him for his family's role in the war. Since he'd met her, he'd come to value her both as an assistant and a friend, though he saw no reason to mention it. He thought wryly that there must already be countless generations of Malfoys rolling over in their graves at the idea of him being friends with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff without him getting all sappy about it.

Draco glanced up at the clock and realized they'd been standing around talking — or, rather, Stacie had been talking — about the reunion for fifteen minutes. He was more than a little relieved for the excuse to interrupt her chatter.

"Well, Miss Winters, it looks like we'll have to continue this discussion another time," he said, making his way towards the door in what he hoped didn't appear to be too much of a hurry.

She followed him out, but didn't stop talking. "I hope you don't think you're going to dismiss me that easily," she said.

Draco pretended he had no idea what she was talking about. "It's after seven already. Our clients aren't paying us to sit around and gossip, after all."

"Our _clients_ have received all the potions they ordered ahead of schedule, and the only thing we have left to work on is that batch of Skele-Gro Madam Pomfrey asked for. And even that just needs to simmer overnight," Stacie said jubilantly. "We are in the clear today, Mad Scientist. So we're free to work on your side project _and_ discuss your class reunion as much as we want." She smirked at him as they entered the laboratory, clearly pleased with herself.

"As much as _you_ want," Draco couldn't help grumbling. He gave the cauldron of Skele-Gro a stir and nodded with satisfaction. Perfect, as always. Unfortunately, that also meant that Stacie was right.

"I just don't see the point in going, that's all," he said. "Besides, you know it's just going to be some big brag-fest where everyone shows off their great career and their attractive spouse or whatever, and I just broke up with Lena not that long ago, and I—"

"You broke up with Lena at least six months ago," Stacie cut in. "I remember because you kept saying how glad you were that you didn't have to get her a Christmas present. And, forgive me for being less than sympathetic, but you didn't seem all that upset about it."

Draco's hand clenched around the stirring spoon, and he set it down gently lest he end up throwing it. He usually appreciated Stacie's organizational skills and attention to detail, but not so much when they were applied to his personal life. She was right, he knew, but he hated to admit it. He couldn't even remember how long he'd dated Lena. But he _could_ remember the way she'd eagerly adopted Stacie's nickname for him in the beginning. The Mad Scientist. She'd thought it was endearing that he was so dedicated to his potion-making. After awhile, however, the nickname had become less a sign of affection and more one of frustration. Draco was _always_ in his lab, brewing up some concoction, and when she did see him, it was all he ever wanted to talk about. He made his own hours, after all, she would argue, so why didn't he ever make time for her? Eventually, she had left him, and even now, Draco couldn't quite remember exactly how it had happened. He felt a little bad about it, of course, but his laboratory had some kind of irresistible pull on him. It was where he came alive. If Lena couldn't understand that, then maybe they were better off apart. In one of his more petulant moments, he might even have said that was what he got for trying to date a woman, and that he should just stick with men, although he'd heard the same complaints from pretty much everyone he'd dated, regardless of their gender.

"And that is exactly why you should go to your reunion," Stacie was saying. "Lots of your old classmates will be single. It'll be the perfect opportunity for you to hook up with some old crush you never had the courage to ask out when you were a teenager."

Draco sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Stacie beamed at him. "Nothing gets past you."

Draco sighed again as he started going through the notes for his experiments. It looked like he was going to be forced into this class reunion after all.

* * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes. He took a peek at the clock and groaned. It was time to get up. He'd slept so poorly that he'd hoped it was still the middle of the night. But no, it was just after six, and he had to go to work.

He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, wearily rubbing his face. Of course, he knew exactly why he hadn't slept well last night, and every night for the past several months. The sharp reek of alcohol coming from the living room only served as a further reminder of why he always slept so poorly, and why he always seemed to be irritable and short-tempered, even when things were going well. Alan.

Sure enough, once he'd showered and dressed and finally entered the living room, there was Alan, passed out on the couch as usual. At least he'd come back from his night of drunken debauchery alone, if not quietly. That would make this much easier.

Harry stomped through the room on his way to the kitchen, trying to make as much noise as possible. He was grimly pleased when Alan grumbled and turned over fitfully.

"Not so loud," Alan mumbled. "I have a killer hangover."

Harry slammed pots and pans down on the stove, ignoring the feeble complaints behind him. As he busied himself making breakfast the Muggle way — old habits die hard — he heard Alan get up and shuffle into the kitchen behind him.

"What's for breakfast?"

"Whatever you want," Harry said sweetly. "And you can make it yourself, too."

Harry felt a pair of arms slide around his waist and stiffened. "Aww, don't be like that," said Alan, laying his head on Harry's shoulder. "I already said I was sorry."

Harry shrugged him off. "I really don't care anymore."

Alan was giving him a wounded look. Another time, Harry might have been affected by it. But as he stood there looking at the tall, sandy-haired man who had once swept him off his feet with his careless good looks and unconcerned attitude towards life, Harry felt absolutely nothing.

"You're still mad about last night," Alan said now. "I told you, I was drunk. That guy at the bar meant nothing. I only care about you, Harry." He reached for Harry again, but Harry sidestepped him easily.

"I'm not mad," said Harry, and he meant it. He'd felt nothing when he'd caught his boyfriend with his tongue down some stranger's throat last night, and he felt nothing now. The laid-back attitude that had attracted Harry in the beginning had slowly become a source of irritation, and as he looked up at Alan's pitiful, big-eyed expression, the only thing he could bring himself to feel was contempt. Alan's slovenliness, his endless nights of drunken bingeing, followed by an endless string of promises to do better in the future, had slowly destroyed any feelings Harry had had for him.

"I'm not mad," Harry repeated. "I'm _finished._"

Alan blinked at him. "What? No, don't say that. I'll try to do better, okay? I'll—"

"Yeah, you say that a lot," Harry said wearily. "You'll always _try_ to do better. You'll always stop drinking so much and get a job and pay your share of the rent. But you've been saying that since I've met you, and you've never actually _don__e_ it."

Alan was starting to look frantic. "I really mean it this time! What do you want me to do, pay you back? I can do that, Harry! You know, I have a job interview coming up, but I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want to jinx myself, but—"

"Yeah, you say that every time, too," Harry said with a sigh. "You've just been repeating the same things over and over without making any real effort—"

"You can't do this," Alan interrupted him, and Harry was unsurprised to see his eyes filling with tears. "You can't leave me, Harry. I love you. I can't live without you. Where will I go?"

Harry shrugged. "The time when I might have cared about that has passed," he said heartlessly. "Now it's time for you to go. I don't care about what you owe me, I just want you to leave."

Alan was shaking his head frantically. Then he stopped suddenly and squeezed his eyes shut. Harry hoped he wasn't about to heave all over the kitchen floor. "Harry," Alan whispered pleadingly, not opening his eyes.

"It's over, Alan," Harry said firmly. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was time to leave. "Look, I have to go to work now. I really don't care what you decide to do, but when I get back, you'd better not be here." Grabbing the morning's post and the last of the sausages he'd made, he hurried to the fireplace. Then he looked back at Alan, standing there in the middle of his kitchen, looking lost.

"I'm serious, Alan," he said one last time. "It's over. I suggest you spend the rest of the day finding someone else to mooch off of." Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fire, he stepped through the fireplace and into the Ministry.

Once he'd arrived, he paused to take a deep breath and finish his breakfast. He felt . . . free.

_I should've thrown him out a long time ago,_ he thought. Sure, Alan had been pleasant and charming in the beginning, and his easygoing personality had been refreshingly different from everyone else Harry knew, besides George. And Harry had to admit he _had_ been great in bed as well. But after awhile, everything had started to go downhill, and Harry suspected his feelings for Alan had faded quite some time ago. Breaking up with someone was always a stressful thing to do, but Harry found that he didn't feel as bad as he thought he would. Mostly, he was glad it was over.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair before making his way up to his office. He was going to be all right, he knew. With his mail in one hand and a fresh mug of tea in the other, he entered his office and sat down at his desk. He tossed the pile of mail on the desk and started sorting it.

The _Daily Prophet,_ which he now only read for a quick chuckle, a letter from Neville and Luna, who'd gotten married shortly after the war, a note from Ron, probably about the case they were working on, and . . . something from Hogwarts?

Harry frowned curiously as he turned the letter bearing the familiar Hogwarts seal over in his hand.

_Why is McGonagall writing to me?_ he wondered. It was no mistake; the letter had his name and address clearly written across the front. He opened it slowly, his curiosity growing.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Congratulations! This year marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating class . . ._

Harry shook his head in bemusement as he finished reading the letter, then set it on the desk in front of him, feeling almost dazed.

"Merlin's beard, has it been ten years already?"

* * *

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!


	2. Reunited

**~ Chapter Two: Reunited . . . ~  
**

"Mmm, don't you look sexy!"

Draco rolled his eyes at Stacie's excessive enthusiasm, then turned back to the mirror and frowned.

"I don't know," he said, tugging at his collar self-consciously. "Don't you think it's a bit much?"

Draco didn't know why he had agreed to go shopping for dress robes with Stacie any more than he knew why he'd let her talk him into going to his stupid reunion in the first place. He was already starting to regret the whole thing.

"Nonsense," she said cheerfully. "The whole point of a reunion is to impress people, isn't it? And, let me tell you, once they see how good you look, they're going to be impressed."

Draco sighed. He had to admit, he did look good, but the robes he was currently wearing didn't seem right somehow. "It just seems like I'm trying too hard," he complained. "What was wrong with the last one?"

"Nothing, if you're going to a funeral," Stacie retorted. "Honestly, Draco, I think you've spent so much time hiding in your laboratory, you've forgotten how to act around people. This is your ten-year reunion. Everybody is going to be trying to impress everybody else. You don't look like you're trying too hard, you look fantastic." She threw an arm around him and smiled at their reflection in the mirror.

Draco continued to frown uncertainly. He briefly wondered why he'd even come here with Stacie in the first place; after all, he saw quite enough of her in the lab, where he could still maintain some professionalism by insisting on being called by his last name. Shopping seemed more like the kind of thing he would've done with Pansy. But then he remembered wanting to surprise his old friends when they met up in Hogsmeade before going to the reunion. Besides, Pansy and Blaise always seemed to be busy with the ever-increasing number of children they'd had since Hogwarts. He doubted she had time to go shopping for herself these days, let alone him.

He sighed again, ready to start protesting anew. "Stacie—" he began.

"_Draco__,_" she mimicked him. She straightened up. "No more arguing. You look perfect. Doesn't he look perfect, Madam Malkin?" She turned to address the older witch standing off to one side.

"Absolutely!" Madam Malkin beamed at them. "Dress to impress, I always say. And if it's your reunion, you definitely want to impress, dearie. I should know, I've attended a few class reunions myself." Her eyes twinkled.

Draco's shoulders slumped. He knew he was outnumbered. What he wanted to know was when he'd become such a pushover. Stacie hugged him, looking victorious.

"We'll take it, Madam Malkin," she said with a grin.

* * *

Harry twirled around, admiring his new dress robes. He couldn't believe it was already almost time to go to the reunion. The past few weeks since he'd received his invitation seemed to have flown by. He hummed to himself, brimming with excitement. Ten years, he marveled. It really was hard to believe it'd been that long. A knock on the door interrupted his reverie.

"Can we come in yet?" Hermione's voice called. A moment later, she was echoed by a considerably more impatient-sounding Rose. At least, Harry _thought_ Rose was echoing her mother's words — sometimes it was hard to understand the two-year-old's baby talk.

Harry opened the door to find Hermione holding Rose and laughing.

"Well, well, don't you look handsome," she exclaimed. "I guess all the time you spent in there primping was good for something, after all."

Harry gave her a guilty smile. "It wasn't _that_ long, was it?"

Hermione waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, relax, I'm just teasing. Besides, we all know you want to look good now that you're free and single. Just in case you run into some old classmate you've forgotten about who happens to be attractive and unattached."

Harry groaned. "Hermione . . . "

"What? I'm just being realistic. You're young, good-looking, savior of the wizarding world—" Harry groaned again "—and you just happen to be newly single. You're going to make _someone's_ dreams come true tonight."

"Hermione, for Merlin's sake, I'm not coming to this reunion just to get—" He broke off, looking at Rose, who was staring up at him with big, innocent eyes and sucking on her fingers. "I just want to see my old friends again and catch up. Isn't that the point?"

"Merlin, you _are_ a goody-goody," Hermione teased, setting Rose on the floor. "Everybody knows reunions are for flaunting your success and—" she glanced quickly down at Rose before turning back to Harry "—um, getting to know one of your old classmates better," she finished with a wink.

"Hey, come on, you guys, aren't you ready yet?" Ron's voice called from the stairs. "We have to go soon."

"Be right down," Hermione called back, then turned back to Harry. "Just wait and see, Harry. You won't be going home alone tonight." She grinned and hurried down the stairs ahead of him, leaving Harry staring after her in a daze. He shook his head and followed her. Shagging some old classmate really wasn't his primary goal tonight, no matter what Hermione thought. He just wanted to spend a relaxing evening with his old friends. Although he certainly wouldn't mind if anything else ended up happening.

Harry shoved all the rest of those thoughts aside as they prepared to Apparate. Even if he did want to find a new boyfriend, the reunion wasn't the place to start looking. He was going there to have fun. Everything else was secondary. Taking out his wand, he waved goodbye to Rose, who was now curled up on the sofa next to her grandmother Molly, and Apparated away with Ron and Hermione.

* * *

"Wow." Pansy's voice reached Draco's ears before he even saw her. "Don't you look _stunning._"

Draco looked around, still slightly disoriented from Apparating, and saw a group of his old friends standing around just outside the Three Broomsticks. He smiled, genuinely pleased to see them. "I didn't think so many of you would actually come to this thing," he said.

Blaise grinned and clapped him on the back. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Beside him, Pansy was making an odd, squealing sound, and when Draco turned to her, she seemed almost giddy. "I heard Lavender Brown got really fat," she shrieked in delight.

Draco couldn't help laughing at her enthusiasm. "I'm surprised you were even able to come, what with all those kids you've got."

"Don't be silly, Draco. Of course we managed to make time for this," Pansy said as they entered the Three Broomsticks. "And we don't have _that_ many kids. You always make it sound like we're running a small orphanage."

"Right, of course," Draco said with mock contrition. "So, how many kids _do_ you have now?"

"We just have four," Pansy said, and Draco snorted. He caught an evasive look briefly crossing her face and raised an eyebrow.

"_Just_ four?"

"Well." She looked away for a moment, then turned back with a rather guilty smile. "And another one on the way."

Draco let out a sigh of exasperation. "Merlin, Pansy, take a break."

"So, what are _you_ up to these days?" she said quickly. "I couldn't help noticing you came alone."

Draco shrugged. "Same as always. I spend most of my time in the lab. It doesn't leave me much time for anything else."

"You spend too much time in that lab of yours, Drake," Blaise said. "You need to get out once in a while and get a little sun." He eyed Draco's fair complexion pointedly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know I don't tan, Blaise. Besides, I like my work."

Pansy sniffed disbelievingly. "And yet you came here alone and dressed like that."

Blaise smirked. "I think it's pretty obvious what _you_ came here for." Beside him, Greg sniggered.

"Ugh, don't be ridiculous. I actually wasn't going to come at all," Draco started, and Pansy let out a screech that got the attention of everyone in the Three Broomsticks.

"What do you _mean_ you weren't going to come?" she shrieked in a slightly lower tone.

"I just didn't see the point," Draco said, shrugging.

"Are you insane? This is a perfect opportunity to laugh at how pathetic everyone else has become! How could you not want to come?" Pansy was looking at him like he'd grown a second head, and Draco was beginning to feel a little afraid of her.

He quickly finished the rest of his butterbeer. "Well, then, what are we waiting for? It starts at four, and it's just about that time now." He stood up, hoping the others would follow his lead. "Let's go laugh at our old classmates."

As he hoped, he'd managed to distract Pansy before she could start ranting, and they made their way to Hogwarts, talking and laughing animatedly. Draco finally felt himself start to relax.

_Who knows?_ he thought. _Maybe it'll actually be fun._

* * *

The Hogwarts staff had really outdone themselves, Harry thought as he entered the Great Hall. The place looked — for lack of a better word — _magical._

The way it was decorated reminded Harry a bit of the Yule Ball, but not in a Christmasy way. House colors were prominently displayed throughout the room, and there was a large banner that read, "Welcome, Class of '98!" One of the walls was covered with a collage of moving photos of their class, and Harry was relieved to see that they weren't all of him. He looked at them closely, smiling. It almost seemed like another lifetime, looking at those old pictures. Someone had even managed to get a candid photo of Malfoy smiling and laughing with his friends, looking more carefree than Harry remembered. Even _that_ made him feel nostalgic somehow. He really had missed the place.

"Harry! Welcome back! I've missed ye!" Harry turned at the sound of Hagrid's voice and was immediately swallowed up by a pair of enormous arms as his giant friend hugged him.

"Hagrid! It's great to see you. How've you been?" Harry said once he'd been released and could speak again.

"Everything's been jus' great, Harry," Hagrid said happily. "And I couldn't be happier about our new professor."

"New professor?" Harry looked up at Hagrid curiously.

"Oh, you haven't heard yet — well, I'll just let 'im tell you about it himself, then," Hagrid said hurriedly as Neville and Luna approached them. Neville was grinning broadly.

"Hi, Harry! Did Hagrid tell you the news yet?" Neville greeted him.

"Sort of. I take it you're going to be teaching at Hogwarts next year?"

Neville's grin grew even wider, and he hugged Luna excitedly. "Yes! Professor Sprout just retired, and she wants me to take over teaching Herbology! Can you believe it?" He hugged Luna again, and she smiled serenely up at Harry.

"That's great, Neville," Harry said, grinning back at him. "I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job."

"I keep telling him that, but he doesn't seem to believe me," Luna spoke up. "I think the Wrackspurts must be confusing him."

Harry tried not to laugh as Neville ruffled her hair affectionately and said, "Yes, dear, that must be it," with a knowing look at Harry over the top of her head.

Making his way around the room and greeting his old friends, Harry almost couldn't believe how much he was enjoying himself. It almost seemed like going back in time, but not quite. He marveled at the way some people seemed almost the same as they had ten years ago, while others were almost unrecognizable.

"Wow," he heard Hermione say, almost to herself as he and Ron helped themselves to glasses of punch. Harry waited for her to go on, but she didn't, merely gazing at someone across the room with an odd, unreadable expression on her face.

"Wow what, Hermione?" he finally asked.

She turned to him almost as if she'd forgotten he and Ron were still there, then nodded at someone across the room. "Lavender Brown certainly looks . . . different."

Harry and Ron turned to look, and even from a distance, he could tell Lavender had put on quite a bit of weight. Looking back at Hermione, Harry could see her lips twitching slightly, and he realized she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Harry shook his head at her, amused, and she turned slightly pink.

"Sorry," she said contritely. "I'm being immature."

Ron slid an arm around her waist. "That's okay, 'Mione," he said with a smile. "You're allowed to be a little immature at your reunion." He gestured over to the buffet table. "Look, there's Goyle. Don't you think there are plenty of people laughing about how stupid and oafish he looks?"

Harry turned to see the large Slytherin cramming something into his mouth and snickered. "Too bad Malfoy's not with him. I wonder what _he_ looks like these days."

Ron's eyes gleamed. "Probably fat and bald," he said dreamily. "Maybe he's lost all his money and will be forced to show up in some hideous polyester dress robes that weren't even fashionable in the seventies."

Harry laughed, nearly choking on his punch as he did. "Well, we can certainly hope, can't we?"

Shaking his head in amusement, he made his way over to greet Dean Thomas as Ron and Hermione went to say hello to Lavender. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of Hagrid slow-dancing with Madame Maxime, and wasn't looking where he was going when he ran right into someone.

"Sorry about that," he heard a familiar voice say.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking . . . " Harry said at the same time, turning to look at the person he'd just bumped into. His mouth fell open in shock.

He'd just collided with Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!


	3. Conundrum

**~ Chapter Three: Conundrum ~**

For a moment, Harry could only stare at the blond Slytherin standing in front of him. Malfoy was neither fat nor bald, and, while Harry wasn't much into fashion, he seriously doubted the deep violet robes he wore were made from polyester. Almost against his will, his eyes traveled up and down Malfoy's slim figure, taking in every inch of his old rival. His robes were made of some soft material that clung to his lean body, flaunting his toned physique rather than disguising it the way robes often did. Malfoy had also let his hair grow out, and now it fell in soft waves around his shoulders, shining in the low light of the Great Hall. The dark color of his robes contrasted sharply with the whiteness of his skin, but where anyone else would've looked washed-out and sickly, Malfoy looked like a porcelain doll.

_Wow,_ Harry thought, stunned. He realized he was staring and raised his eyes to meet Malfoy's.

"Malfoy," he said, inclining his head in what he hoped was a pleasant manner.

"Potter," Malfoy answered, and Harry was surprised by how congenial he sounded.

Harry realized he had no idea what to say. "Fancy meeting you here," he finally managed, feeling like an idiot.

Malfoy smiled, but, while slightly wary, it held no trace of malice. "Yeah. I really wasn't planning to come," he said.

"Really?" Harry blurted out, too surprised to contain his reaction.

"Yes, but unfortunately, I have an assistant who can be a little too persuasive."

Harry didn't know what to make of that. "Well, you look very nice," he said.

Malfoy glanced down at himself with what almost looked like a grimace. "My assistant again. I personally wouldn't have chosen something like this."

Harry smiled. He was starting to feel like he was in the middle of an incredibly vivid dream. "I'd like to meet this assistant of yours," he said.

Malfoy gave him a quizzical look, and Harry studied him for a moment, wondering how he'd never noticed before how attractive Malfoy was. Maybe it was the absence of his old smirk, he mused. Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but Harry never found out what it was, because just then, Ron materialized at his side out of nowhere.

"Harry! There you are," he said, sounding relieved. He shot Malfoy a distrustful look. "We were just looking for you. Seamus was telling us all about the time he met the Weird Sisters." They started moving away without any further acknowledgement of Malfoy. Feeling a bit disoriented, Harry looked back to see Pansy Parkinson hurrying over to an equally confused-looking Malfoy.

He shook his head and allowed Ron to lead him away. That had been weird. He wondered if there had been anything in the punch he'd been drinking that could've made him feel the way he just had about Malfoy. Then he dismissed that thought as ridiculous; after all, Ron had been drinking the punch, too.

As they approached Seamus, Harry shoved his bizarre thoughts to the back of his mind, determined not to let the strange incident interfere with the rest of his night.

* * *

Pansy was chattering away rapidly in Draco's ear as they hurried across the Great Hall, but he barely heard her. His mind was too preoccupied trying to figure out what was going on. That little encounter with Potter had been so _strange,_ he was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He had bumped into Potter — yes, he got that part all right — and then they had chatted for a few minutes, almost amicably. That was the part he was having trouble with. They had chatted, almost like old friends, and he distinctly remembered the comfortable, easy feeling he'd had, as if being friendly with Potter was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, he told himself, he was hardly the snarky little spoiled brat he'd been ten years ago. The events of those years had taught him many hard lessons, one of which being that the world had little patience anymore with the bigoted, entitled attitude he'd maintained during his childhood, and he'd spent a lot of time learning to curb his tongue.

But it wasn't just that, he thought. He just didn't have the same feeling of animosity towards Potter that he used to. And the way that Potter had looked at him—

"Draco! Have you heard a word I've said?" Startled, Draco looked up to see an annoyed-looking Pansy frowning at him.

"Oh, were you saying something, Pansy?" he said with a smirk. "I did hear some kind of squawking sound, but I just thought someone had let a screech owl in."

She smacked him on the arm, but Draco could see the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Well, I certainly haven't missed your smart mouth over the years," she said, trying to sound affronted. Draco wasn't buying it.

"You love me," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

She sniffed. "I _tolerate_ you," she retorted. "Someone has to."

Draco grinned. "Of course you do." He glanced around the room and caught Potter staring back at him. An odd, fluttery feeling coursed through him, and he quickly looked away.

_Strange,_ he thought, but refused to allow himself to dwell on it. Just because Potter was acting weird was no reason to lose his own cool. He could hardly afford to be seen letting Potter affect him like that.

"Come on," he said to Pansy. "I've heard someone in our class is married to a _Muggle!_ Let's go make fun."

With a giggle of delight, she linked arms with him and they circled the room, greeting old friends and snickering to themselves at how much some of their former classmates had let themselves go. Eventually, they ended up next to the buffet table, where they stood and nibbled on appetizers while scrutinizing people around the room.

"Merlin's balls, someone that fat really shouldn't wear such a bright shade of pink," Pansy commented.

Draco smirked. He'd really missed Pansy's vicious sense of humor. She was a terrible influence on him, he knew, but he still had enough of his inner snob left to appreciate her snarky humor, no matter how hard he tried to better himself. _I guess I'll always be a bit of a snob, no matter what I do,_ he thought with some amusement.

"Did I miss anything?" Draco looked over to see that Blaise had reappeared from wherever he'd gone.

"Not really. Where've you been?" Pansy asked, looking at her husband suspiciously.

"Hmm? Oh, nowhere, I just forgot something," said Blaise, not meeting her eyes. Draco watched the exchange between them with interest.

"Okay, let me have it."

"Have what? I don't know what you're talking about, Pansy."

"You're planning something, Blaise Zabini. Don't think you can fool me, I know everything. Now, either let me in on it or give me whatever it was you 'forgot.'" Pansy was giving Blaise the same look that had always struck terror in Draco's heart during their years at Hogwarts. He felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend, but mostly amusement.

"Okay, okay." Blaise looked around quickly, then pulled something from one of his pockets and showed it to Pansy. "I was going to spike the punch."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Blaise, we're adults now. Half the people here are drinking openly."

Blaise squirmed. "Yeah, I know, but this way, they'll get even more drunk and stupid without realizing it. I even added a little Matern-cohol potion to it so it's safe for you or anyone else who's pregnant. I just wanted our reunion to be memorable."

Pansy shook her head, sighing, before quickly glancing around. "All right."

"What?"

"You heard me. Now let's go before I change my mind." Without waiting for an answer, Pansy turned in the direction of the punch bowl. Draco and Blaise started to follow her eagerly, but she stopped and turned around, laying one hand on Draco's chest. "Not you."

Draco opened his mouth to protest this injustice, but she cut him off. "It'll look suspicious if we're all hanging around the punch bowl. Besides, you'll still get to see everyone making fools of themselves."

Draco would've pouted if he wasn't a grown adult and standing in a room full of his former classmates who would be watching and judging everything he did. "Fine."

Pansy and Blaise hurried off, smirking to themselves, leaving Draco alone next to the buffet table. He nibbled on a crab cake as he watched them go.

He didn't even realize that Potter was standing nearby until he'd started reaching for something on the buffet table.

"I wouldn't touch the spinach puffs," Draco warned Potter before his hand had reached its goal. "They're horrendous."

Potter jumped slightly; apparently he also hadn't noticed they were right next to each other. "Thanks for tip," he said with a slight nod.

Potter's eyes flickered briefly up and down Draco's body, and Draco could feel his heart start to pound. He knew Potter was bent; after all, the _Prophet_ had practically dedicated an entire issue to the subject not long after the end of the war. Obviously, the Boy Wonder couldn't have kept a thing like that hidden for long, seeing as he could hardly wipe his nose without someone writing an article about it. But Draco never would've expected to see the Savior of the Wizarding World, who could've had anyone he wanted, checking _him_ out like that.

"I'm surprised to see you by yourself," said Potter. "I would've expected you and Parkinson to be off in some dark corner, making fun of people's shoes."

Draco looked up in surprise to see Potter smirking lazily at him. It wasn't really Potter's words so much as his light, teasing tone that surprised Draco, and he heard himself replying, "Oh, we did that earlier. Now I need a break."

"Well, it looks like your friends deserted you," Potter said, inclining his head in the direction of the punch bowl.

Draco smirked. He hesitated for the briefest of moments, then decided to throw caution to the wind. "They're spiking the punch," he told Potter.

Potter snorted. "Seriously?"

"Shhh." Draco raised his finger to his lips conspiratorially.

Potter smiled at him, and Draco found his own eyes drifting downward. Potter's navy blue robes weren't anywhere near as form-fitting as Draco's, but they still couldn't hide Potter's broad shoulders and lean, muscular body, no doubt the product of ten years as an Auror. He and Potter were very nearly the same size, the way they always had been, with Draco only marginally taller and slimmer. Draco realized that pleased him. It was nice to see that some things hadn't changed.

Potter was still smiling when Draco's eyes made their way back up to his face. "Well, that should make things more interesting," he said.

Gazing into Potter's eyes, Draco was beginning to feel very relaxed, and he thought that he could almost forget they weren't alone in the room. Potter was standing very close to him, he realized. Close enough that Draco caught a hint of his scent, soap and cheap aftershave which wasn't nearly as off-putting as it should've been. Before he could say another word to Potter, however, Weasley once again shoved his way between them, facing Potter while rudely turning his back to Draco.

"Harry!" he said, his tone of false cheerfulness betraying a hint of irritation. "Why are you being so antisocial? The girls have been exchanging pictures of their kids for the last fifteen minutes, and I need someone to talk to."

Potter rolled his eyes. "I'd think you of all people would understand someone being hungry," he said.

The Weasel suddenly seemed to realize there was food nearby, and he turned around, his face lighting up.

"I'd stay away from the spinach puffs, though," said Potter, with a coy look at Draco. "I hear they're horrendous."

By some miracle, Weasley managed to pick up on the look between them, and he very deliberately shoved a large spinach puff into his mouth with a defiant look at Draco. Draco was gratified to see him grimace a moment later, swallowing quickly and then taking a long sip of his punch.

Weasley sniffed at Draco, the contempt clear in his eyes. "Whatever," he said. "Let's go, Harry." He turned and stalked off, and Potter followed him, with an apologetic look at Draco.

Draco watched them go. He really didn't know what to think anymore. All in all, this was turning out to be a strange night.

* * *

"What the hell is Malfoy playing at?"

Harry looked over at Ron, surprised to see his friend fuming.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" he asked, confused. "We just bumped into each other. I don't think he's up to anything."

Ron was looking at Harry as if he was speaking Parseltongue. "It's _Malfoy._ He's always up to something. Besides, that's the second time he's 'bumped into' you tonight. Bastard's probably trying to start something." He let out a derisive snort and continued grumbling about some people never changing.

Harry frowned as they made their way back to the small cluster of Gryffindors. He was sure Ron was mistaken. Malfoy seemed genuinely different from the way Harry remembered him. He hadn't even taken offense to Harry's mild teasing the way he would have when they were teenagers. Harry wasn't quite sure what was behind the change, but if he had to guess, he thought that maybe Malfoy had grown up.

But he couldn't tell Ron that. Not when he so adamantly wanted to believe Malfoy was still a villain, lurking in the shadows and plotting evil deeds. And he _definitely_ couldn't tell Ron what the sight of Malfoy in those sexy purple robes was doing to him. Harry cut off his line of thought and gave himself a mental shake. He did _not_ need to be thinking about that.

But, Merlin, he had not been prepared for such an attractive Malfoy any more than he'd been prepared for a civil one. It had been hard for him to keep from sneaking peeks at his former rival all night. Harry wished Ron hadn't interrupted them. He wanted to get to know this new Malfoy better.

His eyes found Malfoy across the room yet again. It was hard not to with the light reflecting off all that shiny white-blond hair like a beacon. When he met Malfoy's gaze this time, Malfoy didn't immediately look away.

"What did I tell you?" Ron's voice sounded right in his ear. "He's up to something. Why else would he be staring at you like that?"

With an effort, Harry managed to tear his eyes away from Malfoy. "Merlin, you sound like me in sixth year," he said as neutrally as possible.

"Ugh. Both of you stop it," Hermione grumbled, suddenly blocking Harry's view of Malfoy. He blinked at her in surprise. "Malfoy is not up to anything. So Ron, you stop complaining, and Harry, you stop staring. You're just encouraging each other."

"I never said he was up to anything," Harry protested.

"Then why do you keep looking at him? Yes, I'm sure it's disappointing that he's not fat and bald like you hoped, but gaping at him all night isn't going to change that." She rolled her eyes at Luna. "Men. I swear, they never grow up."

Ron immediately started to protest this comment, and Harry's eyes once more flickered over to Malfoy while everyone else was distracted. Malfoy was still watching him, a small smile on his lips. Harry forced himself to look away. _Why_ did he keep staring at Malfoy? It was almost like sixth year all over again. There was just something about the blond Slytherin that commanded Harry's attention, again and again. And he thought that part of it was because everyone else had been so determined to keep them apart all night. He wondered what would happen if he actually had the chance to talk to Malfoy for more than a few minutes.

Harry was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation around him. In an attempt to avoid temptation, he was no longer facing Malfoy's direction, but it didn't help much. He really didn't know what was wrong with him. Why was it so hard to get his mind off Malfoy?

A snort of disgust from Ron caught Harry's attention, and he turned to see his friend scowling at something across the room. He was hardly surprised to see it was Malfoy dancing with Parkinson. They were laughing and clearly having the time of their lives.

"Look at that obnoxious prat," Ron said when he realized Harry was watching him. "He looks ridiculous in those robes. What an utter ponce."

"Is he?" Harry mused, almost to himself. He wondered why he was suddenly so interested in Malfoy's sexuality.

"Oh, sorry, Harry, I didn't mean . . . " Ron hurried to apologize, looking chagrined, but Harry hardly noticed. Once again, thoughts of Malfoy had taken over his brain. He thought he could understand what Ron was talking about — Malfoy's robes did seem a bit girly with the way the soft, silky material clung to his lean frame. But then, Malfoy had always been rather delicate and feminine looking, so the style of his robes suited him.

Just then, Malfoy looked up and caught him staring. He held Harry's gaze across the room and there was something in his eyes that Harry could practically _feel._ Harry swallowed hard, but didn't look away.

"You're doing it again," Hermione's voice was right in his ear, and Harry jumped, startled. What _was_ this? It seemed as though everyone was conspiring to keep him from even _looking_ at Malfoy. As the night wore on, he began to be sure that this was the case. He couldn't seem to get even a minute to himself without at least one of his friends hovering nearby, and at one point, he could swear he saw Ron and Hermione exchanging a glance when they thought he wasn't looking.

Harry was beginning to resign himself to the fact that he wouldn't get another chance to talk to Malfoy when Luna's voice gently interrupted his thoughts.

"You should go to him now, before the others come back."

Harry turned to her, startled. He hadn't even realized that he was alone with Luna. It seemed like an unusual stroke of luck that both Ron and Hermione were in the bathroom just then. _Or maybe they're off doing . . . something else,_ he thought, a bit cynically. And they'd left him with Luna. "Go to who?" he asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

Luna merely smiled at him. "Go outside, away from the crowd," was all she said.

For a moment, Harry simply stood there, blinking at her in confusion. Then he decided the best thing to do was to take her advice, and quickly. He could puzzle over how much she knew on his way outside.

"I owe you one," he said hurriedly, catching a glimpse of that serene smile just before he dashed off.

He tried to appear casual as he slipped through the crowd, not wanting to draw any attention to himself by running outright, but at the same time, he didn't want to lose his chance. His heart began to pound as he neared the exit. With each passing second, he became more certain that any moment, Ron or Hermione would return just before he could get outside. Feeling almost as if he was in some Muggle thriller, he strode quickly through the crowded hall, intent upon the exit door.

It was much cooler outside than in the Great Hall. Harry realized he actually felt a little relieved to take a break from the noise of the party. He made his way across the lawn, feeling a curious excitement growing inside him. As if this was what he'd been waiting for all night.

There was a small gazebo near the lake, and Malfoy stood inside, leaning against a wall and sipping a glass of champagne. Malfoy met his eyes as he approached, and Harry's breath caught slightly as he joined him. He had the strangest feeling that the night had finally begun.

* * *

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!


	4. And It Feels So Good

**~ Chapter Four: . . . And It Feels So Good ~**

Draco watched Potter cross the lawn, outwardly calm, but giddy on the inside.

"What brings you out here, Potter?" he inquired with a slight smirk.

His smirk widened as Potter shrugged in a way that was clearly trying too hard to be casual. "Same reason as you, I suppose," Potter said.

Draco sipped his champagne and surveyed Potter consideringly. Now that he finally had Potter to himself, away from all his hovering friends, he wanted to savor the moment.

Potter leaned against the wall near Draco, each of them silently watching the other. "So tell me, what has the great Draco Malfoy been up to for the past ten years?" Potter blurted out, finally breaking the tension in the air. Potter was just about as awkward as he'd been ten years ago, Draco noted. He let himself go ahead and think Potter's awkwardness was cute. There was no reason to be coy at this point.

Draco smiled. "Making potions," he said. "Mostly for St. Mungo's or the Ministry or other wizarding businesses, but I have some side projects I'm working on as well."

"Really? Like what?" Potter seemed genuinely interested, which encouraged Draco to continue. He liked talking about his work, but it was hard to find someone who actually cared enough about potions to listen.

"Well, I've been trying to develop a safer version of Dreamless Sleep," he said. "Something less addictive and harder to overdose on. It's not coming along as well as I'd hoped, though. Everything I've come up with so far becomes ineffective after awhile."

"Something like that would've been pretty useful ten years ago," Potter said ruefully.

Draco nodded. "I've been wanting to develop a potion like that since the end of the war. That's one of the reasons I started the business."

"You have bad dreams a lot?" Potter was looking at him with compassion, and Draco found it hard to return his gaze. Even after all this time, he had trouble convincing himself he didn't deserve to have nightmares after everything he'd done during the war.

"Not like I used to," he said, looking off into the distance to avoid Potter's eyes. He never would've expected to find himself willingly spending time with Potter, talking to him so easily, and feeling so much mutual understanding.

"So, do you spend _all_ your time working, or do you actually have fun once in a while?"

Draco smiled at Potter's awkward attempt to steer the conversation away from the somber turn it had taken. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"I seem to remember you saying you _didn't_ want to come tonight," Potter returned playfully.

Draco shrugged. "I like my work," he said with a smile. "Besides, it keeps me pretty busy. Some people would even say I'm a workaholic."

Harry smiled back. "Nothing wrong with that. It's certainly better than being a lazy, apathetic slacker. But I suppose I'm a little biased against slackers at the moment. Just got out of a bad relationship."

Draco tried not to look too pleased to hear Harry was single. "So you came here tonight hoping to forget all about it?"

Harry groaned. "Doesn't anyone go to their reunion just to be reunited with old friends?"

Draco just laughed. "Merlin, are you really that innocent?"

"Why does everyone keep _saying_ that?"

Draco was beginning to get that relaxed feeling again. He wasn't sure if it was the way they seemed to be getting along like old friends, or the keen interest he saw in Potter's eyes, or even his own growing interest in Potter. Faint strains of music drifted out of the Great Hall to meet his ears, and for that one moment, everything was perfect. Draco wanted to savor that perfect moment, to let it go on and on. He could sense a certain fragility in it, as though at any instant something might happen to destroy it, and he suddenly wanted to do something while he still had the chance.

"Dance with me, Potter?" he murmured, setting aside his champagne. "Before the cavalry comes out and puts a stop to it once again?"

Harry smiled and stepped forward. A shiver of excitement coursed through Draco as they gently swayed to the music. There was a sense of doing something taboo that made the moment even more thrilling. Being in Harry's arms made him feel like he was finally where he belonged and should have been all along. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so wonderful — if he ever had. He hoped the night would never end.

Draco was hardly aware of it when the song ended. They continued dancing for a few moments, slowly winding down long after the music had stopped. Draco raised his head to look at Harry, and they both leaned forward at the same time as if hypnotized. When their lips finally met, it felt so completely right that Draco wondered how they could possibly have wasted so much time on their petty, childhood rivalry.

Draco reached up to caress Harry's face hesitantly, almost reverently. He could feel Harry melt against him, wrapping his arms more firmly against Draco as they deepened the kiss. Harry parted his lips slightly, allowing Draco to slip his tongue inside with a little moan of ecstasy. They moved against each other slowly and gently, and there was the sense that they had all the time in the world. After seventeen years, Draco didn't want to rush this. Harry seemed to be in agreement, because he kissed Draco slowly and sensually, caressing his body, savoring every moment. Harry's hands glided languidly over Draco, taking his time, moving across his back in lazy circles before sliding lower to lightly squeeze his arse. He felt Harry smile against his lips.

"What's so funny?" Draco murmured without breaking contact.

Harry's smile widened, and he let out an aroused sigh. His body was pressed so close to Draco's that Draco thought he could even feel the beginnings of an erection grazing his hip. "Do you have anything on under these robes?" Harry asked him.

So that was it. Draco couldn't help smirking at Harry's reaction. "Well, I _am_ wearing underwear," he said.

Harry groaned softly with desire. "That is _so_ unbelievably sexy," he breathed, moving down to kiss Draco's neck. Draco leaned his head back, exposing even more of his sensitive skin, and Harry responded eagerly, attacking the exposed skin with lips, teeth, and tongue.

"Do you think so?" Draco teased gently, rolling his hips forward and deliberately grinding against Harry's growing erection. "I couldn't tell."

Harry simply growled in reply and continued ravaging Draco's neck. The things he was doing with his mouth and the friction of their groins slowly grinding together was beginning to affect Draco as well. He clung to Harry as the intensity grew between them, unsure whether to continue what they were doing right where they were or perhaps sneak back inside and find an empty classroom they could use. The idea of making love to Harry out there in the open where anyone could see them had a certain naughty appeal to it, and he found his arousal growing even more in response.

His hands made their way to the front of Harry's robes, slowly, questioning. When Harry didn't stop him, he slid them inside, brushing lightly against Harry's hard cock.

Harry let out his breath abruptly. "_Fuck,_ Draco," he moaned, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Draco took that as a sign of approval. He unfastened Harry's trousers and lowered them enough to allow his cock to spring free, then wrapped his hand around it, moving slowly up and down. His touch was light and teasing, his fingers swirling around the tip, toying with it, before sliding back up. Harry groaned against his neck, his own hands eagerly following Draco's lead. He moved his lips back up to Draco's and they continued kissing urgently as they stroked each other. Harry's hands moved expertly along Draco's cock, matching his rhythm. They moved slowly at first, teasingly, but quickly gained speed and intensity as they approached the climax. Harry came first, crying Draco's name, and the sound of his name on Harry's lips was enough to push Draco over the edge soon after.

For a moment, they simply stood there, leaning against one another and breathing heavily as they came back down from their orgasms. Harry was the first to move, tilting his head back slightly to look into Draco's eyes. He drew his wand and cast a quick cleaning spell on them both, and they began fastening their clothing and straightening their hair. Draco didn't miss the way Harry's eyes darted around, making sure they were still alone, and he smirked. Harry caught his smirk, but didn't ask questions. The expression on his face told Draco he knew they were both thinking the same thing.

"What do you say we go back inside and find ourselves someplace a little more private to continue this?" he murmured into Draco's ear.

Draco smiled. "That's the best idea you've had all night."

* * *

Harry grinned back at Draco and took his hand almost without thinking about it. They looked back at the school pensively, trying to decide the best way to sneak back in without being seen.

"Think we should cast a Disillusionment charm?" Draco whispered in his ear.

"That might be a good idea," Harry whispered back. A giddy little thrill coursed through him at the idea of sneaking through Hogwarts again after all those years. He waited as Draco cast the spell on both of them, then looked down at himself to admire the effect.

"You're really good at this," he said.

"Not everyone has an invisibility cloak, Harry," Draco replied, and Harry could hear the smirk in his voice even though he couldn't see Draco.

Harry squeezed Draco's hand and they quietly made their way back up the steps and into the castle.

As soon as he opened the door, Harry was almost struck by the wall of sound. He couldn't remember it being that loud before, but hoped that the sheer level of noise would help disguise the sound of their footsteps. As they passed by the Great Hall, he couldn't help peering in and was astounded to see the raucous party inside, his former classmates drunkenly dancing, talking, and laughing with complete abandon.

Beside him, Draco started to giggle softly. "I completely forgot that Blaise spiked the punch," he whispered to Harry.

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his own laughter, and the two of them quickly hurried down the hall, away from the wild party, still trying to stifle their giggles. For some reason, the whole situation seemed hilarious when combined with their arousal and the thrill of sneaking around like naughty children.

"Where do you want to go?" Harry whispered once they were alone again and had calmed down enough to speak.

Rather than answering, Draco removed the Disillusionment charm, first from himself, then from Harry. Once they were both visible, Draco turned to Harry, shrugging slightly. "It doesn't matter to me. One empty classroom is as good as the next, right?"

Harry looked down the deserted hallway thoughtfully. "Wanna go see if they rebuilt the Room of Requirement?"

Draco looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "Sure."

Harry smiled back, taking Draco's hand and leading the way back up to the seventh floor. It was strange walking through the castle again after so many years, especially as dark and empty as it was. The thrill he'd felt earlier from sneaking around the old, familiar place still lingered, making him feel a bit like a kid again. He leaned in closer to Draco.

"Do you think Filch is still here, lurking around?" he whispered, letting his lips brush against Draco's ear as he spoke.

Draco shivered slightly. "That would put a damper on the mood, don't you think?" he murmured. They turned around a corner to find themselves in that familiar hallway.

Harry met Draco's eyes and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Cross your fingers," he said.

"What?" Draco looked perplexed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a Muggle expression. Never mind." He squeezed Draco's hand, then they turned and started walking up and down the hallway, thinking about all the things they wanted to do with each other in that room. When they finally stopped, Harry was almost afraid to look.

A door appeared in the middle of the hallway. It was a completely ordinary-looking door, and Harry reached out a bit tentatively and turned the knob. The door swung open to reveal a room that made Harry feel warm, his cock stirring slightly in anticipation.

"My, my," Draco murmured next to him. "The Golden Boy certainly has a filthy mind, doesn't he? I wonder what all your fans would think if they could see this."

Harry rolled his eyes again and stepped into the room, then turned back to the smirking Draco. "Are you coming or what?"

In an instant, Draco was at his side, slipping an arm around Harry's waist as they looked around the room. "Oh, believe me, you'll _know_ when I'm coming," he breathed into Harry's ear, making Harry very glad that they were alone.

It was a cozy little room, the lights low and inviting, with a large bed prominently displayed in the center, against one wall. The bed was a four-poster, like the ones in the dorms, and Harry could see a set of handcuffs on each of the bedposts, glinting softly in the dim light. Harry flushed slightly. _Pretty sure that wasn't_ my _idea,_ he thought. Next to the bed was a small nightstand containing several bottles of lube and a variety of toys. He also noticed a whip hanging on one of the walls and swallowed hard. _I know _that_ wasn't my idea._

Harry coughed. "Well, it certainly has everything covered, doesn't it?" He felt suddenly awkward faced with this clearly single-purpose room, with Draco Malfoy of all people.

Draco grinned at him, the corner of his mouth twisting slightly into a half-smirk. His grin faded somewhat when he saw Harry's face. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

Harry smiled, pleasantly surprised by Draco's worried look. "Of course not," he said, taking Draco's hand and leading him over to the bed. "It's just a bit, ah, _excessive,_ don't you think?" He nodded towards the handcuffs.

Draco threw back his head and laughed, a much more pleasant sound than it had been when they were younger. "We don't have to use _all_ of it," he said, wiping his eyes. "How much time do you think we have?" He flopped down on the bed, still chuckling.

Harry joined him, kicking off his shoes and sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Not as much as the room does, apparently," he said.

Draco sat up, closing the distance between them. "Well, then, we'll have to make it count, won't we?" He leaned forward the rest of the way and lightly brushed his lips against Harry's, one hand coming up to caress Harry's face. Harry brought his own hand up to Draco's chest and gently lowered him down onto the bed. Draco immediately responded by wrapping one leg around Harry's waist and lightly grinding against him.

Harry let his lips trail down the side of Draco's neck, nibbling on the smooth skin and delighting in the way Draco's breathing hitched in response, soft sounds of pleasure escaping him.

"You taste so good," he murmured, moving down to Draco's collarbone, slowly unbuttoning his robes on the way to reveal the creamy, white expanse of his chest beneath.

Faded, pink scars crisscrossed Draco's exposed torso, and Harry tried to ignore his feelings of guilt at the sight. As a distraction, he latched onto one pink nipple, sucking, biting, and swirling his tongue over it as Draco writhed beneath him.

Draco's leg tightened around Harry's waist, and he rutted against Harry more insistently, already half hard. His hands caressed Harry's body, moving slowly up his chest to begin unfastening his robes. Eager to feel skin against skin, Harry helped him, quickly shedding his robes and tossing them in a heap beside the bed.

"I see all that Auror training has paid off," Draco said, eyeing Harry's body admiringly.

"You don't look so bad yourself," Harry said, smirking as Draco preened in response.

Draco slid his hands around Harry's now bare back, pulling him down onto the bed as their lips met once again, soft and slow and languid. He let the leg wrapped around Harry fall to the side as he went to work on Harry's trousers. Without climbing off Draco, Harry wriggled out of them and added them to the pile. Harry sighed gustily through his nose as he pressed against Draco, both of them now down to their underwear. His erection rubbed against Draco's, and he rolled his hips forward, increasing the friction and enjoying Draco's pleased moan in response. Hands slid across his back and down to the waistband of his underwear, the fingers slipping teasingly inside and tugging lightly. Harry didn't need any encouragement. He reached down and made quick work of the last barrier between them, then climbed back into position, unable to resist bucking his hips once or twice.

Draco chuckled softly against his lips. "What's the hurry?" he murmured. He flipped Harry onto his back so that their positions were reversed. Sitting firmly on top of Harry, he began to kiss his way down, his lips and tongue trailing lazily over Harry's bare chest. Harry started to sit up, but Draco pushed him back down on the bed. "Patience is a virtue," he said, eyes twinkling as he resumed kissing Harry.

Harry flopped back onto the pillows as Draco continued. As if to torture him, Draco seemed to move even slower now, teasing Harry's bare skin with his tongue, running it slowly in and around Harry's belly button, pausing to blow gently over the wet skin and making Harry shiver and groan with impatience. He tried to hurry Draco along by sliding his body further up, but it was impossible with Draco sitting on him.

Draco stopped what he was doing and looked Harry in the eye. "Don't make me use the handcuffs on you," he said, nodding towards them.

Harry shivered with lust. "So you _haven't_ actually changed since Hogwarts," he said. "You're just as evil as you always were."

Draco didn't answer, but lowered his head again, holding Harry's gaze the whole time with an impish look that at once disturbed and aroused Harry. Draco's tongue trailed lazily downward from Harry's belly button. But instead of continuing straight down to Harry's throbbing cock, Draco's mouth angled off to the side, kissing his way down Harry's hip and down to his inner thigh, where he seemed content to linger.

"_Draco_," Harry moaned, trying to bring Draco's focus back to his painfully neglected cock. Draco merely fluttered his eyelashes, and Harry could feel him smile as he kissed his way over to the other thigh.

Harry groaned in frustration. "Okay, you proved your point! Would you please—"

Draco moved back up the other side, returning once again to Harry's belly button. His eyes glittered up at Harry with amusement, and Harry let out a helpless whimper. If Draco didn't touch his cock soon, he was going to explode.

But it seemed that Draco did take mercy on him, because a moment later, he was running his tongue slowly down the length of Harry's cock, and Harry let out a stuttering gasp.

"D-Draco!" he cried as his length became engulfed in the warm wetness of Draco's mouth. Draco's eyes were still on Harry's as he let his tongue wander languidly over Harry's cock. Harry threw his head back against the pillows, giving himself up to the sensations. Draco took his time, alternating between light sucking and swirling his tongue around Harry's cock. But before Harry could come, he pulled back, then moved down and ran his tongue lightly over Harry's entrance. Harry's hands fisted the sheets convulsively as Draco's tongue gently inched its way inside, swirling about the same way it had around his cock.

Harry was beginning to grow impatient to have Draco's cock inside him, and it was a relief when Draco finally pulled out and reached for the nearby lube. He liberally coated his hands and Harry's entrance before slipping one finger inside Harry, just as slowly and gently as he had with his tongue. As though he could sense Harry's impatience, he added a second finger, and then a third and fourth, allowing just enough time for Harry to get comfortable with each one.

"Are you ready for me yet?" Draco murmured as he continued stretching Harry.

"I've _been_ ready for you!" Harry cried, his voice tinged with a desperation he couldn't hide.

Draco chuckled, then withdrew his fingers and coated his cock with lube and lined it up with Harry's entrance. He pushed inside slowly, and Harry let himself relax and take Draco in further and further.

For a moment, Draco lay still on top of him, then began pumping his hips, his movements still slow and gentle as Harry got used to the feeling of Draco's cock inside him. As mild pain gave way to pleasure, they both began to speed up, thrusting harder and faster, Harry wrapping his legs around Draco to give him better access. Then Draco brushed against Harry's prostate, and he saw stars, crying out as his pleasure increased. Clearly pleased with himself, Draco hit Harry's prostate again and again until Harry was coming, his untouched cock coating both their stomachs with his come as he rode out his orgasm. Moments later, Harry could feel Draco come as well, crying out Harry's name until at last they both collapsed on the bed, sated and spent.

Arms wrapped around Harry as he drifted off to sleep, and the last waking thought he had was the amused realization that Draco was a cuddler.

* * *

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!


	5. Epilogue: Six Months Later

**~ Epilogue: Six Months Later ~**

"You're in a good mood today," said Stacie as Draco prepared ingredients for the Veritaserum the Ministry had ordered.

Draco simply smiled back at her. She had to know the effect that his recent breakthrough in his Dreamless Sleep variant would have on him. He'd been high on his victory all day. He couldn't wait to tell Harry—

The smile dropped off his face at the thought of his boyfriend. Draco realized that he'd barely thought of Harry for the past couple days. He'd been too busy perfecting his potion, and Harry had been off on another mission for nearly a week now. Draco frowned. He knew that Harry's work sometimes kept him away for long periods of time, but it was starting to bother him. Or maybe that was just guilt because he'd been preoccupied. An unpleasant feeling began to take hold inside him.

_Am I starting to take him for granted, too?_ he wondered. He knew that was one of his worst faults when it came to relationships. Ever since he and Harry had gotten together, they'd both discovered a lot, both about each other and themselves, and why neither of them had had much success with relationships before. Draco had sworn things would be different this time. He'd _felt_ different from the start. Harry made him feel alive in a way no one else had, and had managed to hold his interest even after six months together. They both enjoyed spending time together and relaxing after work to talk about their days. Things really seemed to be going well between them.

Or so Draco had thought. But for the first time, he was beginning to worry that maybe he'd messed up this relationship, too. He wished more than ever that he knew where Harry was, just so he could reassure himself that everything was all right.

If Stacie noticed the drastic change in Draco's mood, she wisely kept it to herself. Draco finished his work in silence, but for the first time, he noticed how chilly it was in his laboratory. Just outside the window, he could see what looked like a nasty snowstorm, the wind howling as it blew snow furiously in all directions, making it impossible to see. Draco was glad that he could just Apparate home, but knowing that he'd be snowed in for the night, unable to leave his lonely apartment, just made the long, cold night ahead of him that much more unappealing.

"See you Monday?" Draco looked up, startled, to see Stacie gathering up her things, preparing to Apparate home. She was eyeing him with uncharacteristic uncertainty. His sudden mood swing must have worried her more than he'd realized.

"Of course," he said, mustering up a small smile. "Have a nice weekend, Miss Winters."

Once he was alone again, the sense of loneliness returned with sudden force. The chill in the air seemed to seep into his bones as he put away the last of his equipment and gathered up his own belongings. And the fact that it was a Friday night only made it worse. Instead of enjoying a break from work, the weekend loomed over him, threatening to crush him with the weight of its emptiness.

He turned on the spot, reappearing in his living room, which was as dark and chilly as he'd expected. Through the windows, he could see the same snowstorm raging outside. It would've been the perfect weather for snuggling in front of his fireplace with a warm cup of cocoa and someone special, but the only person he wanted to be with was away on a mission somewhere Draco didn't even know.

Draco's stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since lunch. The thought of making dinner held little appeal, and he would've liked to go out just for a little warmth and human contact if the weather wasn't so bad.

Draco sighed. It would do no good dwelling on it, he told himself firmly. Once he started dinner and got a fire going in the fireplace, his apartment would feel a bit warmer and cozier. And maybe he could put on some music to cut through the silence. He didn't really believe himself, but turned in the direction of the kitchen, anyway. At least it gave him something to do.

He entered the hallway leading to the kitchen and halted abruptly. There was a light on, visible just beneath the kitchen door.

Someone was in his apartment.

Hardly daring to breathe, Draco tiptoed closer to the door. He realized that he could smell something cooking, and his brow furrowed. It couldn't be his house-elf, he thought. Since he tended to keep long, inconsistent hours, he didn't require her to prepare regular meals for him while he was working. But it must be someone who had access to his apartment, because his wards hadn't gone off. He tentatively opened the kitchen door, wand out and ready.

Harry was standing in front of the stove, as if it was the most natural thing in the world and he hadn't been gone for a week. He was wearing a ridiculous, frilly apron designed to look like a French maid's uniform — and nothing else. Draco's mouth went dry, and he made a funny sound in the back of his throat.

Harry turned at the sound, smiling broadly. "You're home!"

Draco nodded dumbly. It was all he could do. "So are you," he said at last.

Harry looked puzzled. "Of course I am." He studied Draco carefully for a moment. "Did you think I wouldn't come back?"

Draco lowered his eyes. His worries seemed silly and melodramatic now. Before he could answer, Harry had crossed the room and gently raised Draco's chin so he could look him in the eyes. "Of _course_ I would come back to you," he said. There was a ferocity about him, even in that ridiculous apron, that made Draco feel safe and protected in his arms.

Draco slid his arms around Harry's waist, snuggling against him with a contented smile. He let his fingers skate lightly over Harry's bare skin, and Harry shivered.

"I missed you," Draco said simply.

"And _I_ missed _you,_" said Harry. "Wait 'til I tell you about our mission — you won't be_lieve_ what happened!"

Draco closed his eyes as he held onto Harry, basking in his presence. "I want to hear all about it," he sighed. "And then, I can't wait to tell you about my latest breakthrough in the lab."

"Breakthrough? With your Dreamless Sleep adaptation? Did you finally get it to work?" Harry sounded so eager to hear about it that Draco could hardly believe he wasn't dreaming. He leaned back to study Harry's face, and Harry looked just as interested as he sounded. Draco smiled and gave him a lazy, lingering kiss.

"Later," he said. "Why don't you finish dinner — it smells wonderful — and I'll go set the table, and we can spend the evening regaling each other with our adventures of the past week? And then do whatever else you had in mind." He let his eyes roam up and down Harry's body, pointedly taking in his attire, then kissed Harry again and hurried off to set the table before he could protest. As he laid out the dishes and lit a few candles to create a more intimate atmosphere, he couldn't seem to stop smiling. Harry had come back to him, and it didn't seem like he was going anywhere. Now the weekend ahead of him was filled with wonderful possibility. For the first time in years, he felt like he'd finally come home.

_**~ fin ~**_

* * *

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing! Hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
